


Fireflies

by MissGoodPage



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M, Multi, tags will follow, this is going to be kinky
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2019-11-05 16:00:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17921939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissGoodPage/pseuds/MissGoodPage
Summary: You look just like the apprentice. If only you could use magic.-Fem reader. This has potential Reader/Consul Valerius, Reader/Asra, Reader/Julian Devorak, one-sided Nadia/Reader and possibility for Reader/Muriel. Pairings to be determined as they are all still possible at this point. Uploaded without being checked, will do that later on.





	Fireflies

**Author's Note:**

> Au: Reader/Consul Valerius, Reader/Asra, Reader/Julian Devorak, one-sided Nadia/Reader and possibility for Reader/Muriel. Pairings to be determined as they are all still possible at this point. If you read it and like it, you can comment the pairing you would like to see. I am feeling for Reader/Asra/Julian but Reader/Valerius has needs as well. So as I can't decide, tell me who you would like to end up with.
> 
> First chapter is really sweet and somewhat innocent (for my part) :)

 

****~ 1 ~** **

The warmth around you is comfortable, like the first days in spring when the sun reminds you that it’s time to take off your coat. It is so unlike the weather at home that you instantly know that something is wrong. This cannot be your home. This cannot be your world.

The walls appear in front of you, like blurred lines that wobble until they have taken their physical shape. They look solid, white with a slight pink glow. Marble. And when you move your foot you can hear how the sole of your shoe slips past the marble tiles.

_I have been playing too much._

When you look down at yourself the first thing you notice are your hands. They are definitely your own hands. But the sleeves you don’t recognise. They’re see-through, delicately made out of silky purple material. And as you feel the soft fabric slip between your fingers you dare to glance even further at yourself.

A white ethereal looking blouse, trimmed with emerald green ribbons. The sleeves are a different colour. The same light purple can be found at the hem of your trousers, where purple fades into white. On your feet you see golden slippers. You know exactly where you are, there is no doubt. Just one glance at your surroundings and this is the palace in Vesuvia, in the game that you have been playing for far too long.

_What the heck is going on?_

You are standing in front of two large doors. Sweet tunes come from the room behind them, you recognise the organ music and the pleasant babbling of voices.  _This must be at the start_ , you think nervously.  _This must be the introduction to the courtiers_. And now you know where you are and what time within the game this must take place.

Carefully you place a hand upon the door to feel it is solid. Just as it looks. Real. And somehow this knowledge surprises you. You feel the humid air around you and smell the vibrant scent of flowers - drifting towards you from the garden.

_This is the weirdest dream ever._

Then again, you will take full advantage of a dream that seems so real. If it means you can get to see Asra and Julian, if it means you get to feel Muriel’s muscled chest – _thank you please._ You are totally up for that.

Then again, if your surroundings feel real then you must heed the dangers as well. You are here for the  _pleasure_ , not for the pain.

Nervously, you push the doors open and then pause as you glance inside.

It is as you imagined it to be. Not just imagined, but as the designers of the app had drawn the room as well. Pillows are strewn all across the room. It is colourful in here, though most colours are pastel, light, not painful to the eyes. Men and women are huddled in different groups, talking to each other and laughing. Many of them you have never seen before. But some you know rather well.

_I played too much._

As soon as you enter you can see many of the heads turn to you.  _They are watching me_. It makes you feel slightly uncomfortable.  _What if this is some kind of nightmare?_  After all, you did not end up in one of the special scenes with one of your handsome men. What if you were seen as an intruder? Would Nadia have you thrown into the dungeons? Or worse?

Thinking of the Countess, your eyes trace the room until you find her frame. She is where you expected her to be, behind the music organ, and already looking at you.  _Shit,_  you missed her victorious chord.  _Had she played it?_

Nadia keeps playing on the pipe organ though, even as she is looking at you.  _How skilled_. The song she plays is a quiet one, as if she needs to draw out the notes in order to multitask. It is clear that her focus is on you. And she is looking gorgeous.  _Just like in the game,_  you think.  _But even more radiant_. You had not known that a woman could look this enchanting.   
  
You can see Nadia’s surprise at your sudden arrival, and the questioning and worried look that follows swiftly after. With eyes wide she studies you and you feel pinned to the spot. All those eyes upon you, those stares. What was it that you needed to do at this point? 

 _Oh right Portia was supposed to be with me_ , you think, realising that Nadia could be worried about Portia’s absence.  _Where is she anyway?_  And then a more frightening thought hits you.  _What if she’s here with the another apprentice?_  Were you really in the apprentice’s role?  
  
But then Nadia recollects herself and deliberately pauses in her play. This draws the attention of the other courtiers. She doesn’t look at them at first, still studying the organ in front of her, before she rises from her chair and loudly calls out your name. Only then does she turn to address her courtiers. “She is the friend of the palace and apprentice to Asra, the magician.”

_Huh? So you WERE the apprentice after all. Pretty cool!_

You smile and drop a quick curtsy, as elegantly as you can. Apparently you didn’t need Portia by your side to continue the story. Her absence still unnerves you though, but you decide to let it slide. This is a dream after all, and you had decided you want to make it a bloody good one.

“This is her? Cuter than I imagined!” The voice calling out makes you look up again and you scan the room for the body attached. Procurator Volta, you note mentally. But when you turn to look at the source of the voice, you flinch. Volta looks worse in real life than she had on the images in the game. Her tiny frame is humanoid, but her skin is an unhealthy grey tint.  _Like a walking corpse._  But what really scares you are the lines and wrinkles, so very real, so unlike the polished images in your app. One eye is misshapen and you can’t help but look at it.

It doesn’t take long before another voice interrupts, going according to script and filling the air eagerly.

“What a delightful surprise.”

That must be Praetor Vlastomil. He looks okay. You recognise him instantly. Something about his appearance reminds you of a school teacher you once had. “We were all just talking about you!”

 _Were you now, hmm?_  You can’t help but skeptically wonder whether their talk had been good or bad. Though something intuitive tells you the latter. You can just sense the jealous vibe hanging heavily in the air. Is each and every one of these courtiers battling to be the Countess’s favourite?

“Sit, sit! Sit right here beside me,” Pontifex Vulgora mentions your name to draw your attention, making it impossible to deny her request while she urges you with gestures and words to come and sit on the same couch as her. She too is like the pictures, instantly recognisable. Her red dress, her metal gloves, and the yellowish irises in her eyes, it is as you knew it would be.  _She doesn’t look pleasant at all_. Not that she appears to be ill or unhealthy, but there’s a mean streak about her, something that sends shivers down your spine. “Don’t be shy!”

The welcoming gestures are exactly like in the game and as such, you had expected their feigned enthusiasm. Eager manicured hands pull you down onto the couch, your hip bumping against Vulgora’s skirts, as the conversation picks up around you.  _Just like the game._  You can feel the eyes of the Countess on your back. She must be watching you. Contemplative, slow and deliberate notes are brought forth by her hands as she plays the pipe organ. You take the opportunity to look around the room.

Everything is as you remember it to be. But there are some faces that you have never seen in the game, background figures that weren’t even mentioned. You see them as courtiers but also as servants who are bringing food and drinks. You politely accept a wineglass filled with a brightly coloured liquid.

“Ah, the apple juice,” Vulgora chirps next to you, adding a wink when she sees you are looking back. “Good, sensible choice.”

 _Shit._ Was that wrong of you? You can’t recall the Apprentice drinking during this scene.

“Can’t drink alcohol, can you?” A man sitting to your left, one you have never seen before in the game, grins at you. His voice is jocular, but there’s a dark twinkle in his eye. “One of those magicicans who needs to remain pure, I guess?”

What the hell was he implying? You feel that you are frowning at him, probably giving him a very disturbed look as he throws his head back and bursts into laughter. A woman next to him punches him in the belly with her elbow – not too hard, but not too gently either – and chastises him to be quiet and respectful.

To be honest, the whole act brings a smile to your face.

“Magicians are not like that,” Praetor Vlastomil mutters, but he still manages to catch the attention of everyone sitting in the circle around you. They look at him expectantly. “You are confusing her with a priestess.”

“Ah,” the nameless woman chimes in, dramatically rolling her eyes to the ceiling, “the wonders of faith.”

“You can drink whatever you like,” Vulgora says next to your ear, “and be as pure as you like.” Her voice sends a shiver down your spine. The smile on her face is disconcerting, like a shark ready to bite, showing sharp teeth and not reaching her eyes at all.  _She is not honest,_  you realise. She is probably saying these friendly things because she knows that Nadia is watching.

The conversation around you picks up again. You hear them discuss the harvest of crops that has been tremendous and the latest fashion coming from the east. But you were not really listening. Instead, you held your glass of juice tightly, resting the foot of the glass on your knees, while you contemplated the game’s plot.

If you were here, that meant you had missed chasing the servants.  _Which one had the card you were missing?_  Worry that Nadia might ask you questions that were related to the events leading up to this scene fills you. Did you remember everything?And what choices had been made already up to this point? _It can’t be too many,_ you reason with yourself, _this is still the prologue after all_?

But perhaps the worst thing of all was that you had missed meeting Julian and Muriel. Why hadn’t your dream just started at the beginning of the tale? You could have woken up next to Asra.  _Now that would have been hot_. You feel your cheeks flush.

And then you notice something – or rather someone. Opposite of you, Consul Valerius is narrowing his eyes. Has he read your thoughts? Has he seen your flushed cheeks? He is standing next to a marble statue, glass of wine firmly in his hand. It seems as if every muscle is tensing when he notices you are staring back. Then slowly, without breaking the eye contact, he makes his way to you, coming closer to the group seated around you. As he approaches, the man seated on the couch in front of you scoots aside, making room for the consul. Valerius doesn’t look at the man, doesn’t acknowledge his presence at all but sits down elegantly, then drapes his coat over the edge of the chair, smoothing the wrinkles out of the fabric, before tugging at his own braid and neatly placing it over his shoulder. His jaw is clenched and you can see the disdain in his eyes as he sets himself on a couch opposite of you. How on earth did he keep his wine from tipping over?

You focus on the glass in his hand. The glass he now carefully lifts to his lips. The cool glass tips against his lips before they part, ever so slowly. It is as if he is doing this on purpose, testing you, and you feel yourself grow hot and uncomfortable. Consul Valerius is a far more attractive guy than you remember when playing the game.  _This is so unfair_.

You did not remember the apprentice having to deal with  _that_.

“Tell me how was the announcement received?” The words bring you back to the living. Looking over at Nadia you see how her gaze has darkened. As if something was displeasing her.  _Oh no. Had you done something wrong?_

“One can only imagine!” Quaestor Valdemar says, much too cheerful. “Even we, the favourites of the Countess, closest to her heart had no idea!”

 _Yes,_ you think amused.  _I think she has had good reasons not to tell you all_. But of course you bite your tongue and keep quiet.

“That our dear countess, who shares everything with us, could orchestrate such a surprise!” Procurator Volta exclaims. You flinch at the tone but still remain quiet. This is normal again. This is app-like again. Right?

“A surprise Masquerade!” Vulgora is slightly bopping up and down on the couch next to you, but it is enough for you to move along. Her leg is still pressed against yours and despite the layours of her skirt and your own trousers it feels awkward. “How lucky we are, not having to worry about planning for it!”

It is the Countess who, according to canon, rolls her eyes and interjects that you must be lucky to get a word in with them. She finishes with an exasperated “goodness.”

Wasn’t this the point where you had an option? A choice you could make? You frown and keep quiet, wondering what the next line was. Will you remember what you have to say and when you have to say it, you wonder?

“Oh but how lucky she already is!” Praetor Vlastomil extends his arms in the air. It is like you are stuck in some kind of weird pantomime. Oh well, you will just have to bear with it. “To be taken in by the Countess, an unproven, unknown apprentice!”

You feel the urge to lean forward, crawl out of the couch you’re trapped on and loudly exclaim ‘excuse me’, but you swallow your pride. Besides, Volta is too fast anyway and has already beaten you to a reply.

“ And to take such a, dare I say, chance?” Volta says, openly criticizing the Countess, “So very unlike our most thoughtful and meticulous countess!”

You can see it. It is not clear in the game but in reality, it is. Nadia’s face contorts. The change is but slight, but it is enough evidence for you. She is pissed at the way her courtiers address her.  _She really likes you_. “Chance, you say?” Those words sound so lovely through gritted teeth. And yet she remains polite, elegantly turning her wrist and waving with her hand. “It was not chance that led me to her door.”

“Then perhaps the Countess might inform her adoring Court….” In front of you Consul Valerius rises from the couch. You had always assumed he had been somewhere in the background, sneaking around, listening in on the conversation before popping out. You had not expected for him to have been in front of you all along. Which makes the next action he takes even more disturbing. Because he sets out to walk around the couch you are seated on, disappearing to your left, the side where Vulgora is seated, and then passes behind you. A disturbing move, a moment where you do not know where exactly he is, until he appears again in your sight to your right. His grey robes swing slightly as he walks, his braid is trapped against his chest. The final words of his sentence are uttered next to you as he leans forth, offering you a soft, pale hand. “…..How exactly it was that she arrived at the  _witch’s_ door that night.””

 _He is indeed looking down his nose at me,_  you think begrudgingly. And still his glass of wine hasn’t spilled.  _That man has perfected the art of carrying a glass of wine_.

“Or perhaps the  _witch_  might tell us herself.” It is a challenge, one you can see in the spark in his eyes. He is enjoying this riling you up, deliberately luring you out to lash out at him. What does he think his gain would be? To humiliate you in front of others? To have your composure snap and prove the Countess that you are not fit for the job? What?

“Perhaps I might,” the words pop out without a thought. That was one of the choice moments, you silly enough think instantly after.

Around you, the other guests father with hungry eyes and ears. They seem ravenous for details of the fateful meeting the other night. And of course this is the point where you nerves overtake you and you black out.

_What the fuck._

What do you say?

The moment is broken by an airy sigh. The Consul saved you. He is staring at you through his glass of wine and you notice that he has drunk some while everyone gathered around you. The glass is no longer filled to the rim, but lower. And there’s a nice trace of red staining his lips. Like blood.

 _He looks like a vampire_. You might or might not have had a kink about them. Though  _if_  you had, you would  _never_ admit it. No one wants to be associated with twinkling pale men from Twilight, right?

“Oh, it pains us Countess, to know that you felt you must look elsewhere,” Consul Valerius starts, and here he pauses. It is such a delicate moment for him to pause, you would have missed it in game. You can’t recall this moment. But for now, when he pauses, you fear he will finish his sentence in a sexual way.  _‘Oh it pains us to know that you must look elsewhere to get your pleasure,’_  your cheeks grow hot and red again. But then Valerius says “for an ear to confide upon.” And while the other courtiers seem to be in agreement, faces drawn with sympathy and some nodding, you feel relieved and let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. You notice how Valerius eyes you, an unreadable expression in his eyes, before he turns his head to Nadia again.

“We may seem frivolous to you, but should you deem us worthy of our trust, our hearts are as open as a book!” Here, Valerius throws his arms wide with flourish. But it isn’t a pitcher of wine that he knocks over. Instead, it is just the glass he was already holding in his hand that manages to finally lose its contents.  _And not by accident_ , you silently mope. He very definitely deliberately threw his wine at you. You can see the red colouring the front of your virgin white blouse.

A collective gasp sweeps through the room. You feel the wine seep through your clothes and onto your skin. Then you hear it, the accord that is so out of tune with the rest of the song that you know Nadia’s patience has reached its limit. She stands up behind the instrument, her expression one of thunder. They have humiliated you in front of her eyes.  _He_  has humiliated you. 

Somehow, that thought cheers you up a little. Did the Consul really think he could win acting like this? That the Countess would drop you because someone called you a witch and ruined the clothes she had given to you – well, you assumed that last bit. She gave them in the game.

Consul Valerius bows, a hand for his mouth in feigned surprise. “Oh, my apologies, how clumsy of me!” You see his fingers hover over a pocket in his robes and then recognise a tissue. The thought that he might try and dab at your chest makes you lean back on the couch, as far away from the Consul as possible. Vulgora is by your side and you feel her grip your wrists, nasty cold fingers against your skin. It is supposed to be a comforting gesture, you realise, but it feels more threatening just because you know it is her doing it.

“Surely” Valerius continues, “a  _witch_  as  _skilled_  as you knows some  _hocus pocus_  to remedy this dilemma?”

“Enough Valerius,” Nadia interrupts. The respite is welcome. You know she will chase each and every one from the room and that gives you a warm feeling in your tummy. Let them be thrown out. They don’t deserve to be here, you think. Not when all they have come for is their own gain. Not when they only care about themselves and allow jealousy to rule their minds and hearts.

“You have exhausted my patience for tonight. All of you, out. To your chambers.” Nadia’s voice is harsh. Vulgora rises next to you and gives you crooked smile. You quickly avert your gaze to see Volta throw you an apologetic smile. Then your eyes come to rest upon  _him_. Valerius. His violet eyes bore into you while his lip pulls into a snarl. You expect for him to say something, a final insult before he retreats, but he is wiser than that. His lips press tightly together and he turns, leaving the wineglass empty on a nearby table.

 _So it’s not the same glass he’s always depicted with?_  
  
You feel a warm hand rest upon your shoulder and look up. Nadia’s still glaring at her courtiers, but once she feels your gaze upon her she turns to look down at you and the hardened look in her eyes soften.

Once the final courtier has left the room her grip on you slackens and you can see a tired smile appear on her face. “I am sorry,” she says. “I had imagined many outcomes to this evening’s affair. I must admit that this was one of them.”

You watch her, suddenly feeling tired despite just being dreaming. Never thought you could dream of wanting to go to bed. Perhaps the whole encounter had exhausted you. Or perhaps you were just terrified of being alone with Nadia, not quite remembering what had proceeded and not quite knowing what on earth was going on.

You opt for silence. Did the apprentice say anything at this point? There were enough witty comebacks you could have thought of at this point. But Nadia was already speaking again.

“We must rid you of these ruined clothes, of course. Tsk, such pettiness.” As she spoke, she circled around you, coming to stand in front of the couch and eyeing you from top to toe. Her gaze as it flicked over you became heated and you suddenly wondered what she must be thinking. Seeing you in this flimsy wet blouse. You looked down at your chest to see – okay, so you were not wearing a bra. This was embarrassing. The red wine had become a cold sticky liquid upon your skin, resulting in a very natural process of – well.  _That._  You quickly bring up your arms and try to cover the two peaks showing through the shape of your blouse.  _I wish I was a guy_.

Embarrassed, you look up at Nadia again as she rambles about your wardrobe.  _What did she just say_? There’s a slight blush on her cheeks as well and her eyes keep being drawn to your now covered chest.  _Has she got the hots for you_? You silently congratulate the creator of the app, they did a brilliant job. Apparently, as the apprentice you are a real magnet to these characters.

Then you hear your name and blink. Nadia is looking concerned at you. “Oh, I’m sorry,” you quickly apologise, rising from the couch. You hurry to the abandoned wine glass on the nearby table. Yup, still there. But it’s more of an nervous movement. You have no idea how to act or react around Nadia.

The Countess walks behind you, following your moves. “You worry me,” she says, softly whispering your name.

To hear your name roll of her lips once more is a pleasant gift, a confirmation that you are indeed in the role of apprentice. You hold still, then take a deep breath. “I should very much like to go to my room and change,” you reply, not seeing Nadia’s response. “But it’s been a long day, so forgive me if I fall asleep.”

“Of course, your clothes are sticky after all,” the Countess replies. You can hear the hesitation in her voice. “Wear whatever you like. I shall return your garments to you.” Then her hands are upon your shoulders again, cautiously, as if she is afraid to frighten you. She slowly turns you around so the two of you are now eye to eye. “This might come as a surprise to you, but your comfort is of great importance to me. If you want to wear your own wardrobe, wear it. Although it would please me greatly to see you wear the clothes I have assembled for you.”

She looks over your shoulder for a moment, biting her lip pensively, then turns her eyes back on your face. “I wonder where Portia has gone to. She was under strict orders to guide you.”

 _Dread it._  “Oh, about that,” you notice that you have started to smile nervously. “I- I do not know where she has gone off to….”

Nadia nods understandingly. “Will you be able to find your room?” You seriously doubt that. There were no sequences showing the exact map of the palace’s layout. But before you could voice your worry, Nadia was smiling affectionately and gently tilted a lock of your hair, pinching it between her finger and thumb, while she whispered at you. “No worries. I will guide you there myself.”

You can feel your breath catch in your throat. But as sudden as she had come close to you, as sudden she spun you around and gently pushes your back to make you walk. She keeps to her promise, and after crossing a few corridors you found yourself in your appointed room. “I will have one of the servants prepare a bath for you. Have a good night’s sleep,” Nadia tells you. “And don’t go out of your room at night. One never knows how my courtiers will act around you. I will send Portia for you in the morning.”

With that said she leaves with a wink and you can hear her footsteps as she wanders down the hall. You take a moment to collect your thoughts and take a deep breath. Then you study the room. It is large but modest. There’s a bed, a table, some chairs, some books, and a closer filled with clothes that you have never seen before in your life. Colourful, silky clothes. Very pretty.

There’s a small bathroom attached to your room, and you instantly make use of the toilet to empty your bladder. “This dream is really vivid.”

“It certainly is ma’am,” you jump and quickly dress yourself before stepping back into your room to see a small servant looking away shyly. “I er…. came to prepare the bath for you, milady?”

“Ah, yes,” you stammer, but gratefully allow the female servant access to your tiny bathroom. _Where was Portia?_ The servant quickly helps you with setting up the bath, explaining the strange pieces of technology that you are certain must have been made up by a fanatic. Why did nothing seem to work here like it did at home? But you accept things as they are. You take a bath, relax into the warm water, close your eyes and hum.

For a moment you are afraid that when you open your eyes you will have woken up, but nothing like that seems to be the case. After the bath you find that dinner has been served in your room. You open the doors to the balcony your room has and then sit down at the small table to eat whilst enjoying the view. The sky outside is darkening, but the scent of flowers here is delicious. Vesuvia looks amazing. From your room you can overlook the city and as the sky darkens you see more and more lights being lit in the city below. At moments, the wind carries the sound of people laughing or talking from the nearest houses below. The people seem content.

In the end, you lay down between the soft sheets and fall asleep, certain that in the morning you will wake up in your own time again and that it had all been a dream. 

**Author's Note:**

> Spoiler: It was not just a dream.


End file.
